


Nothing wrong in Paradise

by Player1isgreat



Series: Founder of Scala [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Kingdom Hearts 3 speculations/spoilers, Other, Other characters will be mentioned - Freeform, Union X speculations/spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-04 21:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Player1isgreat/pseuds/Player1isgreat
Summary: Just some headcanons for Blaine, founder of Scala ad Caelum and the generations after him...(Feel free to comment)





	1. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _No matter what others would say, in another time, the number never had such a lucky reputation. ___

As long as he could remember, Blaine never bothered for anything superstitious. He didn't fear a broken mirror or a black Flowerkit mindlessly crossing his path, not even in the books he craved to read.

It was almost always connected to the unknown, making up strange and convoluted mindsets to ground something out of one's control.

 

Wishing on a shooting star.

Throwing salt over your shoulder.

Carrying a lucky trinket around at all times. 

There were so many more he could name off the top of his head, but ever since he was as young and bright like everyone else, he didn't fit in any sort of category.

Oh, if only he could laugh at it all...

 

The new world was built from the ashes of the past, springing forth the phoenix of knowledge and retribution. No matter what he wanted to believe, some charms, fears, and frights made their way to the life he had now. 

Arching keyholes served as major gates, and dandelions happily grew about what little plots where sewn.

The worthless duality in a checkerboard, for there was always dawn and dusk to work in between.

And if one was both bored and observant within the castle walls, they were sure to notice the lack of a seventh decoration from something as simple as a window to something of obvious grandeur.  

 

No matter what others would ask, he never saw a chance for seven to be considered lucky, though he may as well go against the majority.

From the stories as ancient as time, the founding Master was considered the Seventh, as he prophesied the end of the world. In the dawning chaos and discord, he watched from the unknown horizon, looking upon the destruction of an Eden he once created.

As his former pupils cried for peace, to put an end to such a tragic fate, the Seventh listened to those hopeless wails till the end.

 

When has the number even been known to bring fortune? Be it hatred or petty superstitions, but those who put too much belief in the ordinary are bound to defeat. 

Perhaps the same would reign true in the future beyond...But as he sighed to himself from his view of the endless ocean, he would have to wait for fate to change his mind. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly inspired by the out-of-bounds exploration of Scala ad Caelum. Needless to say, there was a lot more symbolism tying the place together...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJvYoFr3tuU


	2. Overgrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Time was a cruel reminder of what to come. However, longer bangs prove to be a far greater nuisance. ___

The obstruction of his messy locks was not an uncomfortable occurrence, no matter what others would believe. Blaine never had a problem with his sight, not even in his fiery youth of fighting the Heartless or now as he trained his new students. 

He never imagined in a million years that the scenario would come to light, even if they were just at the age to go headfirst into Lux collecting, traveling the worlds, and letting their skills prove that they're strong enough for another day. Thankfully though, he was sane enough to not gift them their Keys just yet...

Childhood shouldn't be marked by scars and hardship, that's for sure, but the world outside won't give them a friendly headstart and a power bangle.

 

As long as he was standing he would be sure to drill that idea into their heads, as well as encouraging his students to live a long and healthy life outside of training and studies. 

Ironic for the wise Master of Scala to forget the chance to care for his own appearance. The weeks carved his features by stone, that simpleminded child of the past withering day by day, the emotional and physical burden weighing him like a set of heavy chains. 

 

The day one of his pupils took note of his locks, settling just past his shoulders, was the straw that broke the camel's back. Of course, he wouldn't let the disdain loose so easily...After all, he was their Master, so his increasingly feminine profile wasn't going to sour his mood anytime soon. 

Besides...a ponytail would never go out of style, not even in the unfamiliar future he now ruled. 

 

* * *

  

"Eraqus, can I ask you a question?" Without looking up from the chessboard, the young man could easily read the curiosity from the boy's face.

"What is it, Xehanort?"

"I've come to notice that your hair's always tied...Do you usually prefer it that way?"

"Of course I do!" The Keyblade apprentice proudly replied; "It's a tradition in my family, and our long hair represents our strength and nobility."

Unfortunately so, Xehanort smirked at the thought.

 

"Oh, but is it a shame...Perhaps if you weren't so boisterous in our first meeting, I would have assumed you were more of a girl. I suppose-"

"-I look _nothing_ like a girl! How could you say something like that!?"

"It's only for my personal interest, no more than that." The Islander quietly grinned; "Though it would be a shame if you were to be the victim of a devilish prank." 

And just like that, the board quivered with the wrath of vanity. "-Not in a million years! Just wait until we become Masters, then we'll see who's laughing now!" 

"Perhaps you should keep your temper under control, future Keyblade Master. I've read that stress could do _disasters_ to the body."

 

While the light-minded wielder in white bitterly left the chamber, unbeknownst to both of them, a third presence of the bygone past laid witness to the scene. In the Gazing Eye, the owner was laughing his face off as the young Seeker will come to eat those very words.


	3. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Some secrets are better kept in the safety of an envelope, never meant to be sent. ___

"So you're really Ienzo? Man, even if I was gone for so long, I still can't believe this..." Ven easily voiced his discomfort, scratching the back of his head in consideration. While the worlds around him didn't quite change, the friends he made along the way served as a reminder for the eleven years he may never get back in his life.

"I would say the same as well, I never expected you to look the same since my time as a child. I suppose Even will be far more intrigued about this." 

"Maybe next time, Ienzo...-Oh, by the way, what's the surprise you called me out here for?" 

 

The young scholar only grinned to the fact, rustling the present documents around.

"This would be more of a _discovery_ , as a matter of fact. Though in your case, it could be a surprise too." 

"How so?"

"While I was scouring through the archives, I managed to stumble upon these." In the safety of a spare drawer, a stack of letters came into view, namely a dozen, yellowed with age and tied together with twine.

"While I know this castle like the back of my hand, I never once noticed them before. From the characters alone, they must have been inscribed in a former era."

"Yeah, that _is_ interesting..." 

 

As far as he could remember, Master Eraqus told him the fantastical tales of the original World, governed by the Light and thousands of Keyblade wielders that once lived on such a benevolent land. While he soaked up every word like a sponge, he seemed to feel a special connection to those stories than Terra and Aqua...Up until he met Chirithy, that familiarity returned at an all-time high. 

_For some strange reason, it feels like I know more about the ancient time than the Master himself..._

_Is that why Ienzo only called me?_

 

"I'm sure you'll find these far more interesting than you would believe..." In the careful grip of the scholar, a trio of the similarly cut envelope was retrieved.

The feeling cut through his heart like a knife, as if he found something precious he never expected to find. Despite the faded ink, he could easily recognize his own name written on the letters. 

_I'm sure it's from my studies, but I've never seen my name written like this..._

 

"How...-This's a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?" 

"I suppose so..." Ienzo only smiled to himself; "It might be for someone who shares your name, but as far as I discovered, there has been no sign of prior tampering. The remaining names are quite bizarre as well...But perhaps while the time is now, you might as well read this in their place."

"Yeah, better now than never..." He felt the world be lifted from his shoulders, oddly enough, but a brand new weight was placed upon him, the single eye of his audience sucking the air out of Ven's lungs.

They were just about to make one of the greatest historical breakthroughs since the discovery of the Worlds...But in the back of Ventus' mind, he wanted to run as far away and as fast as he could from the room. 

 

_Why in the world am I so nervous?_ Ven's heart hammered in his chest, silently praying that Ienzo wouldn't hear.  _How should I know what's going to be written in there, I didn't even open it..._

_Should I just read them back home and save him the trouble? Besides, Chip and Dale gave me a Gummiphone, I can just send him the pictures._  

_-No, I'm right here...There's no use backing down now..._  

 

Taking apart the breath he held back, as well as the lack of stubborn glue sticking to the envelope hid his trembling fingers, it was a quick one-two movement as the ancient scripture embraced the light after centuries of secrecy. 

 

_-Dear Ven, how are you doing today?_

_I know I haven't seen you as much, and you may not have believed me the first time I told you, but I still care about you as a friend. For right now, I've been a lot busier than you would ever imagine. Could you believe it, me, a Keyblade Master, just like our old Masters!? _ _Who knows...when the day's over, I may see you in a different light when we find the chance to reunite once more._

_Of course, I'm sure you grew a few more inches in the meantime, so that will always be a surprise for all of us. As long as I'm still breathing, I'll never forget everything you've done for me, for all four of us. We may not have known what you've been through before we became Leaders, but you grew past everything from before._

_Until we meet again, my dear friend.-_

 

Within every sentence of warmth and calm, he felt his heart drowning in the strangest feeling of loneliness, like the words itself were dragging him into those untold depths. It all sounded so _familiar_ , but no matter what his brain attempted to muster, the memories couldn't come to mind.

 

_What am I supposed to do with this?_

_Even if this is from the past, every word feels like it's written for me..._

_This feeling...What is it supposed to be, truly?_

_But there are two more to look through...should I even bother?_  

_If I can, maybe I can take them home...After all, they have to be mine, right?_

_I can just burn them when no one's looking, ri-_  

 

"-en? Ven, is something wrong?" A sudden hand on his shoulder sent a shockwave through his body, just seconds away from recoiling.

"No...No no, it's alright, I'm fine..." While his heart was still pounding, he felt more than exhausted from this unusual ordeal; "It's just-...I just don't know. Whoever wrote this, they seemed to know someone like me..."

"I see...If that's the case, Even and I will analyze the remaining documents." Ven battled the choice of giving the other letters, to get a better grasp of his enigmatic memories perhaps, but the opposition proved to be the victor. 

 

"I hope you figure this out..." 

"I sure hope so. If anything comes up, I'll be sure to call you." 

"Yeah...Thanks..." 

 

~~~~ 

 

Chirithy only watched on with the limited expression in his sewn-on eyes, letting his wielder read the letter tens of hundreds of times over until it burned in his heart. The blonde asked the Dream Eater over and over about the mysterious scribe, each time with more determination to not spill the beans just yet...

 

Try as he might, it was too early to understand his past, the one that cradled him with happiness and love, heartache and betrayal. For now, in the safety of their room, Ven could only cry over those empty promises, knowing that they may never meet between such unconquerable lifetimes, but not knowing the owner of those familiarly lonely words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was halfway through the story, I had the strangest but reasonable headcanon that Blaine has a sort of magical touch for conveying his emotions into words (Some kind of logokinesis or verbokinesis? And maybe going as far as having his loneliness imbued in the letters perhaps?) 
> 
> But I'll be sure to tie that idea up in a more long-running headcanon I've had.  
> Minus the angst ;)


	4. Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What do you like better? Cats or dogs? ___

Cats or dogs?

Energetic and friendly, or quiet and curious? 

The conflict rang out for millennia, reaching not a victory, defeat, or standstill. 

 

"To be honest, I like them both. If it makes you any better, I could make a cat-dog for anyone to appreciate!"

 

It was a simple joke, but knowing his convoluted history, he practically lived in the world of fairytales. He lived the moderately idyllic life of monster-hunting protectors of Light, almost ignorant of the impending War and overbearing Key wielders dropping like flies left and right.

While he wasn't too encroached in the spectrum, he knew the pain of frailty and defeat. On the other hand, there were three things that gave his life meaning. 

The company of his Master, his love for books, and Chirithy.

Oh, the Dream Eater was such a delight to have around, much to his one-sided embarrassment. It never bothered him with his lack of participation in his Lux collecting, as one of the many leisure of life involves a good book and a quiet room. With time came knowledge, and his youth was more than fascinated about the creature's origin, even if their previous attempts didn't go up to par.  

 

Perhaps it was trial-and-error that fueled the pursuit, mixing imagination and dreams to living, breathing companions. Or as he figured out long ago, it would the friends that eagerly followed the project, imagining and dreaming of what the next Spirit will look like. Alas, those wild ambitions fled from the real world, where the perpetual gears moved not for youth, but for mortality.

 

In the dead of night, he held a silken pouch close to his heart, filled almost to the brim with Figments and Dream Shards he collected from time to time, much to a bystander's confusion. While they held no worth in the waking world, they were the building blocks of miracles. 

_"Master Blaine, welcome back!"_  The solemn gears filled the chamber, his body twisted in the comforts of a chair and oaken table.

Not that it bothered him anyway...He was more than used to the ache. 

"Hello, Chirithy..." With a free hand, he ruffled the doll's fur fondly; "It's been a while, hasn't it?" 

_"I suppose so, you're getting a lot taller too. Thinking of growing a beard anytime soon?"_  

"Not in a million years, my little friend." With a slight boop of the nose, Blaine was quick to gather his findings on the old Master's desk.

 

_Perhaps the Book was safer in the real world...Whoever has a strong heart might end up wandering here by accident._  

With a thoughtful smile to himself, the beakers, test tubes, and flasks clambered for attention; the only other company to the young Master. 

_How many times has this been going on?_

_No matter how much I tried, I can't make a Spirit anywhere closer to Chirithy..._

_Oh well...The more kind-hearted failures, the better the company._  

 

"Now then...Let's see what we create today."


	5. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The future is a greater burden than one should hold alone. With that in mind, he would gladly let that prophecy fall with him. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random original character? Check.  
> Blaine's possible affiliation with the Book of Prophecies and No Name? Check.  
> Tries to change the future without _trying _to look like an ass? Check.__  
>  Little to no skills in proper characterization? Absolutely...

"Master Blaine?... _Master Blaine?_ "  

"Yeah, what is it?" As of the moment, he didn't look as professional as the proclaimed Master wished to be; basking in the sun like a lazy cat with a book in hand, paying not a lick of attention to the training session.

For now, there was only him and his new trainee. Damian, a single mind to mold into its own diligent and unique force.

 

"You're not even looking at me...This is getting exhausting." 

"That's because of your posture." Not even glancing from the weathered pages, Blaine continued; "Keep your back straight and focus your energy in the swing. Believe me, you're gonna get a lot of bruises if you keep that up."

"You told me that last time!" The clamber of the training Keyblade filled the hall, puffing his cheeks in ample frustration, "And how's that book more important than me, huh?"

 

_In more ways than one, I'm afraid._

For once in a while, he snuck in a few memories of Damian's profile, sorting out the differences between the now he faced and the before that burned in the depths of his heart, that similar phrase and irritation sparked an achingly familiar flame.  

His hair was wild and dark maroon, a more than common style on the isles, as well as a persistent tan from the summer-like rays. While those emerald orbs shone with natural determination, he could almost replace them with the shimmering ocean.

_Like a distorted mirror, I suppose..._

_Never mind that, I know everything here like the back of my hand. I still have plenty of time to read this through the second time._

 

Finally, Blaine sighed to himself, slamming the Book shut with a hearty noise. 

"This may not look like much, but I do this with all of their first days." 

"Oh really?" Despite his snarkiness, Blaine could sense the intrigue; "I guess that explains all of the breaks." 

"That's quite the opposite exactly...Since my old Master did something _close_ to this, I thought I could mix it up a little." 

 

And just like the spider's thread, his poor victim was tangled about...

"Oh, believe me, I could do just as worse!" With a slight flare of drama, he nearly twirled about the chamber, "If he was alive now, you would already be out in the streets, newly acquainted with your Keyblade and fighting for every second of your life."

"-What!? That's horrible!"

Still, the Master continued his facade. "Well...he _was_ my boss, so I didn't have the brains to fight him. In my time, I had to follow two principles. You either get stronger to be noticed by the Master himself...or lose yourself to the Darkness."

 

Tens of times before, the training hall fell silent to consultation, but it was a sight Blaine wouldn't grow tired of anytime soon.  

The more minds to teach, the better.

"...Didn't your Master do _anything_ to help?" 

"Not that I know of." He only shrugged, "I suppose he would've been passing the day by with a pleasant book, far away from the battles and noise." 

"So just like _that_ , huh? But how's a book more important than his apprentices?" 

 

With another smirk on his lips, Blaine strode over to the awestruck student, placing a gentle hand to his head.

"You're gonna have to figure that out yourself. Don't worry, I tell everyone that sob-story all the time, so there's no need to go at it alone." 

"Oh...Alright." Damian lightly nodded; "Thank you, Master."

"Don't thank me just yet, I haven't measured your skills today. I'm not that cruel to leave you in the dust." 

 

As short as the kindness came, Blaine assumed a cautionary stance, fists held close and his body bent down to strike.

"But-...What about your Keyblade?" The boy was rightfully puzzled, taking up the previously abandoned tool in defense.

"That's for another time, young one. You have to learn to not rely on a weapon so much. Once you get one of your own, try to let your body and Keyblade grow stronger together..." From Damian's point of view, the man looked almost like a predator, battle-worn and hungry for a brawl; "And a little side note here. Don't make it your life's purpose to beat me, 'kay?"

"Yes, Master...I'm rea-"

Before Damian could even blink, a flash of gray nearly consumed his sight, the harsh sunlight dancing in his eyes as he was bombarded with a sudden headache and the deafening explosion of shrapnel. 

"Good job, kid...you did well for your first fight." The Master was practically unfazed from the sudden infliction, looking over the bits of wood and splinters of what _used_ to be the training sword; "If you had a real Keyblade, you probably would've lasted an extra five seconds." 

 

"...What? That was it?" His heart kickstarted from the fright, flooding his chest with shock, awe, and a sliver of disappointment. 

"Oh come on...Why the long look? Everything's just about to begin." 

With a gentle hand once more, he helped his newly appointed student to stand, shakily so.

"Everything...?"

"You got it. Starting tomorrow, you're a proud member of Master Blaine's training regimen. Don't worry bud, you'll get your own Keyblade in no time." A solemn slap on the back made him stumble, but only a bit, as the Master reoccupied his seat by the window.

 

"Have a strong heart and find your own path, I know you will."

"Okay...Have a good day, Master Blaine." A courteous bow was received, and the chamber was silent once more. 

 

~~~~

 

The faded Keyblade hanging on the wall was a surprising sight for sore eyes. From the shimmering gold ornament, the ominous metallic sheen swallowed any stray light that may come its way. Besides the obvious contrast to the bright and cheerful castle, the pressure of being watched was clearly set in the glassy eye when someone was alone in the room.  

The macabre Keyblade was given to Master Blaine as a gift, one of many stories passed along by student to student, even as the lifeless shade told of its dearly departed owner.  

But no story or rumor could explain its ghastly presence, or of the Master's hushed conversations in the vacant hall. 

 

_'Do you think he asks the Gazing Eye if he's the fairest of them all?'_

_'Not with that attitude, he isn't.'_

 

The more seasoned apprentices knew very well not to meddle in the Master's affairs. If anything they learned from the man that brought fear in their hearts is his own experiences with the Keyblade. He knew about combat, with or without the mystical weapon, and he knew far more limits than those young minds could ever comprehend. 

 

_'One time, he dangled me over the rooftop because I looked in that old book he always carries around. How is it even important if I had no idea what it said? It all looked like mumbo-jumbo to me...'_  

 

No matter how formidable he proves himself to be, the Master was just as kind and caring to them all, almost like an extra parent overseeing their child's growth and development. Both in and out of training, he took the time to realize their follies and nudge them towards the right path.

So no matter how charismatic and terrifying the man's reputation has come to be remembered as, rumors were only spread, waiting for a lucky soul to gather enough courage to ask the Master himself. 

 

"...Master Blaine?" Damian peered through the chamber door, catching the quizzical mumbles of the man in grey.

"What is it, Damian? Have somewhere important to go to?" 

"Not right now, sir." With his fingers fidgeting about, the boy tried to find the proper words; "But um...I was wondering what _you_ were doing."

 

There was a hum, as if he was contemplating the decision of spilling his plans, but Damian would have grown proud of the attention nonetheless.  

" _Well_...It's a pretty big secret. I hope it's in good hands." 

"Don't worry, Master. I won't tell, promise!" 

 

He hummed once more, keeping his gaze to the mystical Key hanging on the wall, all before sighing in a slight defeat.

"I'm only saying this once, kid. Make sure that's closed, alright?"

"Yes, sir!" The buzz of adrenaline nearly made him slam the door shut, but he quickly took to the Master's side. 

 

Carefully placed on a centerpiece of gold, the Keyblade of the ancient past would've been marveled as the artifact of knowledge, of the times written in scrolls and equally aged tomes. Despite the joyful tales of the World before, the Gazing Eye gave a solemn reminder that no matter how bright the Light shone, Darkness engulfs it in the shade of despair. 

Time and time again Damian wished the Eye was just glass, or just made to _look_ human; no matter what, he wanted something to explain the creepiness that follows it.  

If anyone knew its origin, it would be Master Blaine himself.

Still...

 

"Did you know that this Keyblade has a special power?" 

"Of course, Master." He nodded, not breaking his concentration with the Gazing Eye; "All Keyblades have a power connected to their wielder, just like what you told us. So that's the same for Gazing Eye, right?"

"You got that right, kiddo. But this Keyblade has a kind of power unlike anything I've ever seen." He explained proudly, "The Gazing Eye is special because it works outside of a wielder's control. Still, I'm not going to let one of my students run off with it, now would I?"

"Of course not. So, you gonna tell me what it does?" There was another sound, but it turned into more of a hearty laugh. 

"Nah, it's too complex for you."

_Complex?_ Besides everything else he knew, what's so complex about that Keyblade? 

 

"Let's make this into a simple example, hm?" He simply concluded, clearing his throat in the process; "For example, try to imagine every Keyblade as a camera. You can carry it around all the time and take pictures of anything that interests you. And with every picture it takes, it stores it inside the film and you grow more experienced in using it. As far as anyone knows, you always need someone holding the camera to take the picture, right? For _this_ camera, that wouldn't be the case. It's both the camera _and_ the photographer, and whenever it feels like it, it takes a picture of anything and anyone it wants. For now, I can't quite decide if it's the person who made this specific camera or something happened to it along the way, but _apparently,_ it can see beyond this time and place; taking another picture of tomorrow or another day ahead of every other camera. So for now, I want to find out what's inside the film. Who knows, it might benefit all of us in the long run...So that's pretty neat, right?" 

 

The young man was beyond words by that point.

He was almost at awe to see the Master enthusiastically ramble about something before...If he could recall most of it, that is. But for now, he could only say one thing.

 

"You're _really_ confusing, Master..."

"Don't worry, I get that a lot." Blaine finally chuckled to himself, possibly realizing all the time he wasted; "I hate repeating myself, so that's your only go, alright?"

"Of course...Have a good day."

"Same here. Now go ahead and scram kid, I won't be telling you twice." 

 

* * *

 

The time was now...  
While the Master was busy wherever he was at, the one treasure he casually guarded was waiting defensively by in the open, its secrets ripe for the picking.  
_So much for pretending to be book-smart, oh prestigious Master Blaine..._

  
It was more of a blessing to see it up close, no less than touching its weathered spine and curling your fingers on the fragile pages, containing tales of the unknown and incomprehensible. My heart was already pounding with anticipation, feeling my breath leave my lungs as I opened the cover....slowly...slowly...And I began to read... For the most part...it certainly _was_ incomprehensible.

Just looking at a single page kicked my reading level back to a toddler's, understanding only the pictures from my previous lessons.  
So much for a great mystery...  
I was just about to close the tome in defeat, leaving the intrusion a forgotten memory, until I felt a strained tug on the back of my shirt.  

"I can drop you, and no one will even know..."  
The calloused Master whispered in my ear, blending with the salty breeze and the sound of my heart dropping a thousand meters to its doom.

"M-Master!? What are y-"  
"Don't you know it's rude to look through other people's belongings?" I could practically hear him smirk, dangling me farther from the edge as I instinctively struggled; "I hope you remember your magic, kid. It's not worth freaking out over nothing."  
"-Says you! This is going too far!" To my obvious dismay, the man was barely deterred, only huffing in a disappointed manner.

"That's a shame...I thought you were ready for anything."  
"In being a Master, not a Gravity lesson! Please, I won't tell anyone what I saw, I swear to the Light!"  

 

~~  

 

As soon as the panic attack came, the same would be said for my week-long punishment...Chores.  
"What's so important about a bunch of scribbles, huh?" I mumbled bitterly to myself, avoiding the Master reading the tome as always.  
There was no mistaking the silent chuckle on Blaine's part.  
"Maybe you should study more, it'll do you wonders..."


	6. Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _To build a city in a day, there's bound to be a few cut corners. ___

(Inspired by [this](https://manysad.tumblr.com/post/185240019652/i-was-kinda-curious-to-see-if-we-could-access-the))

Deep in the untold depths of the storage room, a forgotten typewriter gathered layers over layers of dust and grime, telling a story of its own through its harsh abandon. Though after a near hour of gentle but frustrating care, the machine's true colors shone, a dark violet tint bringing out the silver keys and dials.

"Do you think it still works?"

"I sure hope so. You just press the keys and make words, right? What's so hard about that?" One of the students groaned, "Besides, this thing's heavy, I'm not dragging this back if it's busted." 

 

Ignoring the useless plight, another apprentice by the name of Natalie pushed her way through the small cluster of onlookers, sliding a sheet of paper through the platen.  

"Come on, don't be so down. If it _does_ work, think of all the letters we can write!" While she wasn't usually the impatient one, she carefully rolled her fingers over the keys, hoping to get the words out; "Now then...What should our first message be? Think we should write something for the Master?"

"No way!" The youth Bruno bellowed; "What do we even have to tell him? We're not even _close_ to being Masters ourselves."

"Then we'll just put down what we know now, it won't be _that_ hard. It's as simple as writing an ordinary letter, that's all..." 

 

The first few letters rang out loud and slow, meticulously inching the carriage further along as the words found their meaning in the page. Even if the group bickered on about how the remaining mechanics worked, (even the inkling of an idea on whether or not it worked on magic), it was only a matter of time before the tortoise finally won the race.  

But as the time passed slowly and surely, the sudden looming presence of the Master himself froze all that was left of the passage, a deeply unsettling fury burning in those ashen eyes. They practically recoiled, gauging enough distance to run if they needed to, while poor Natalie almost fell out of the chair itself. 

 

"...Do you have _any idea_ what you're doing?" An animalistic growl erupted from his throat, all between a rock and a hard place.

"I-...I uh..." The girl stammered, her face white as chalk; "I was just...getting used to it...B-" 

"But I hid it for a reason." With absolutely no warning, he lifted the typewriter effortlessly in the air, cradling it in one arm like a bag of feathers; "And poking around in other people's business? Honestly, I thought I taught you better..."

 

While they very well knew not to poke the bear, the incident unraveling before them could possibly open the ultimate bank vault. When it came to his personal life, he was a man of little words, and he was just as enigmatic as the city of Atlantis and El Dorado combined.

Hell, he didn't even bother telling them his birthday _or_ his age! 

For now, at this life or death situation, Natalie knew that she may never get a chance like this again... 

 

"Oh yeah, then why would you hide it?" Even past the anxiety, she just managed to sneer; "We'll find it again, no problem. If you tell us just a little story, _then_ we'll forget it all."

Sparks easily flew between teacher and student, finding any bluffs from either opponent, the air drawn tight with suspense. Perhaps it was a miracle from the everlasting Light itself or some other godly sleight of hand, but the walls were razed with a miserable sigh.  

"Since you asked _so_  politely...I'll tell you. _Just this once,_ you hear?" With the machine lugged around in his grip, he dutifully wandered to one of the many study halls, letting his flock follow hesitantly behind. 

"I'll take that as a 'yes'...Since you're so curious about your dear old Master, let's make this short and sweet. Long ago, there was this bratty kid I used to work with who played with this every chance he got. He used to say 'he liked the noise'...The only noise I heard was my migraine." With a flick of magic or a hearty kick of his boot, Blaine crossed the near vacant chamber, not one as fancy, decorative, or large as the Gazing Eye's, but the empty table clambered with the box of metal and ink. 

 

"As long as this is as far away from me as possible, you can all write here to your heart's content. And you need help with paper, keys, and whatnot, just ask someone else in town. I'm not telling you twice, you understand?" A collective crowd of nods was gladly received, even a few brave souls whispering a brief "Thank you" to boot.

"Glad to see your spirits up." He cheekily grinned, "If you don't need me, I'll be in my office. Go on, run wild, you don't have all day." No one bothered to follow Blaine out of the room, lest they would stir his wrath one step further. As soon as the door was sealed shut, however, a chunk of irritation rolled off his shoulders.

 

"Shit...I'm going soft, am I?" Rubbing his temples in thought, a headache was quick to form; "Oh well, at least that piece of junk's off my hands. A cat-nap will do wonders for me right now..."


	7. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the light of the full moon, saints turn to sinners, a neverending cycle spinning forevermore. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, _now _I have to figure out his age. To go past the Underage Drinking radar, I'll just say he's in his early 30's, (though "not judging a book by its cover" works in the literal terms for him) he might as well have the mental capacity of a bratty, know-it-all teenager to boot.__

* * *

As soon as the sun falls, the light of responsibility follows along, enveloping the air with a calming euphoria that puts most of the goody-two-shoes to sleep in an instant. While Blaine favored a few naps here and there, nothing beat the king-sized mattress of a coma every night. Nightmares ended and began, nothing he could beat with a midnight stroll in the halls or a steaming cup of tea, but leaving a lifetime behind brought more harm than good. 

There's restlessness and there's insomnia...From then and now, he knew the best of both worlds. Luckily for him, the former reared its ugly head just as the twilight descended with the salty breeze. Not a soul was heard, not even a Ratty Rat, and he knew right then and now he had to tackle the night head-on. With his "professional" attire put aside, the inconspicuous black jacket, pants, and the single-feather fedora still fit like a glove. 

_How long has it been since I wore this? Well...ages, really._

 

He was quick to board a gondola, watching the street lamps shining their hopeful beacons on the alabaster streets they guard, the therapeutic atmosphere at its all-time high. His view from the castle did nothing to the down-to-earth experience, and he was proud of everything blending harmoniously together...

Perhaps if he wasn't too busy every other day, he would have taken some hikes up this mountain of accomplishment more often than not.  

 

~~

 

Why the taverns slipped under his nose was a mystery he may never solve for tonight, but it was a temporary paradise nonetheless. As far as he knew, no one wanted an army of drunkards stumbling through the streets, and one could only dread of a Keyblade Wielder being among the crowd too. It could be the substitutions or the pubs being an ancient treasure in this world, (one or the other, more likely both) but the overall environment was as clean as the ocean itself. 

Besides, a Master should put his student's education on top of everything else, the number one priority, so alcohol is a big N.O. on that rulebook.

...But just for tonight, it was time to tackle Numero Dos. 

 

With a determined sigh, bracing the fact that _yes,_  talking to people the same age as him is  _important_ , he was never the one to be the center of attention, no matter how his apprentices idolized him. He's just an ordinary guy with an important and meaningful job, and he would beg to Kingdom Hearts itself to keep it that way. 

Finally, with his hands scrunched in his pockets, he stepped straight into the cacophony of laughter, clinking glasses, sweat and intoxicating joy. The laughter died down a  _little_ , either from melding out of the darkness like a Neoshadow or something else he'd rather not imagine, but his self-confidence wasn't going to fail him n-

 

"-Isn't this a surprise? Over here, Mr. Big Shot, I got a seat open!" 

_And as foretold, Darkness prevails and Light expires...So much for going under the radar..._

Nevertheless, he slid into the stool beside the man, already smelling booze lingering in his breath.   

"Well, I wasn't expecting the audience." Blaine, unfortunately, and bitterly mumbled, occupying himself with some water the barkeep provided.

"Same here, but you should have a line of fans following you, huh? I'm sure everyone's gonna have a good night with you around, that's for sure. Name's Jacob, by the way." He casually brought an open hand, the sunburn on his cheeks crinkling with the grin.

"Yeah...And you know me..." It wasn't the most _discrete_ greeting, but it was a start either way...If he can make it through the night with his dignity intact, that will be everything he needed. 

 

"So~," Jacob instantly drawled, a slew of questions dancing on his face; "What brings you to this little corner of Scala? Being a Master has to be tough work."  

"Not the way I do it. They just run around, doing everything kids do, but at least they're out of my hair."  _Not like I always tell them to goof off...As long as they're learning, that's fine by me._ "When I have nothing else to do, and that's a _shocker,_ I know _,_  I treat every day like a midlife crisis." 

"...How does _that_ work?"  

"Just what you'd expect. As long as it's productive, I don't give a shit what it is." And just like that, he  _laughed,_ not in the sarcastic or ironic matter Blaine was so painfully used to.

 

"Wow...Yeah, I see what you mean. _Man,_ I wish I went to school again, you'd be an amazing teacher." 

It wasn't the _greatest_ compliment he got...But it's something. 

 

"So, got any more questions for me, or are you gonna bleed me dry like a social vampire?" 

"Nah man, you should enjoy the night...But I thought you were drinking because of the kids." 

"Isn't that harsh?" The Master sarcastically scoffed; "Believe me, I would never hear the end of it. Mind if I turn the tables a bit?"

"Sure thing, sir, blow me away."

 

With his current refreshment exhausted, the brunt of the afternoon was sure to be known. 

"What would you recommend for a first-timer? A drink, I mean."

And that _face_...If he had a camera, he'd be sure to frame it in a heartbeat. The bar quickly rose into a symphony of howling, clearly directed at the prestigious Master himself, but Blaine could only grin at the fact. Sure, they could tell their wives, their children, their neighbors- hell even the entire world as a matter of fact, but who would ever believe that the founder of Scala ad Caelum; the one who gave them a roof over their head and a peaceful life beyond compare, never had a drop of alcohol on his lips? 

Either sober or drunk, _they_  would be a laughing stock if they ever had the guts to tell otherwise. 

 

Still testing his limits, Blaine's new drinking buddy croaked in a chuckle.  

"I-... _You_ , of all people...You can't be serious, right?" 

"Does _this_ look like the face of a liar?" He casually rested a hand on his chin; "No one looked at me funny the last time I checked, so you must be mistaken."

The room was almost dead-silent, just enough to hear a pin drop, breaking the tension with a halfhearted sigh. 

 

"Look...You're a nice person, and I know some of your _skills_ are harsh enough to make half the guys here cry. Don't back out on me now, you hear?" With a cautionary glare to the "unlucky" patrons, he continued, "I'll pay for you, got it? No need to waste your munny in this backstreet."

"What are you, my mother? I'm not a mad man, I'm just getting one." 

"Whatever you say, teach." Jacob was quick to order two glasses of brimming ale, a shimmering gold as bright and hypnotizing as the radiant sun.

 

"To the future!" 

" "To the future! " " 

 

~~~~

 

As far as Jacob knew, the Starboard Star shared a fine line between anxiety and exhilarating folly, the happy drunks and the scary drunks chattering about in that melting pot of adult life.

And as it turned out, the grand Master of Scala leaned more on the scary side. He was much more relaxed (to think he could dip even lower), could take a drink like a champ, but everything past his cold and charismatic filter was...unsettling. While everyone else overweighed assisting him to his track record, the man found himself to be the much-needed savior in escorting the Master back to the castle. 

 

"-I'm telling you, it was staged!" Blaine roared in the tram's cabin; "Why would he kill the flower girl if he knew _I_ would take their place? Screw that guy, I'm playing 4D chess!" 

"Yeah, that sounds exciting...What's that about, some new drama?"  _And a new game?_

As the hours lazily crawled by, he was left with the maze of corridors and doors in a futile attempt to find Blaine's chamber, but the angry rants did enough work in gaining some attention. 

 

"...Can I help you, sir?" The kid sleepily drawled, rubbing away the possible remnants of rest.

"Yeah, sorry to bother you, but your Master had...um, a _lot_ to handle. Mind telling me where his room is?" His eyes lit up like the sun.  

"-Oh, yeah, of course! It's just the last one in the hall. But if the door's still locked, I can't help you past that." 

_Well, that's good to know...A man needs his privacy after all._

 

Nevertheless, Jacob mindfully dragged the man back to his room, catching the sound of giggling and hushed jokes as, thanking the Light above, the door was unlocked. The interior was as quiet and secretive as his personality, holding just enough glamour in the high-rising curtains, cluttered study, and rows upon rows of books waiting patiently on the shelf. As Blaine's previous vigor died down to incoherent grumbles, he made a silent note to the empty nightstand as he prepared him for the rest of the night. 

Besides the bedside lamp and gently-used tome, there wasn't a single trace of memorabilia, nary a portrait or indication of his ambiguous youth, all alone in a room fit for two. 

_I hope you live a long and healthy life...You'll find your form of happiness someday..._  

 

~~~~ 

 

A knawing headache and a mouth as dry as Agrabah was the one thing he did _not_  want on his agenda this morning...Try as he might, he could barely recall hearing about those so-called "hangovers". Besides, it was hard for him to do that sort of research if the only adults in town were too busy to get drunk.

_Oh well, the past is the past...No use crying over it now._  

"Master...Are you awake?" With that bubble easily popped, he groaned past the tangle of plush, both mind and stomach racing in all things unpleasant to this easily aggravating morning. The threat, unfortunately enough, was a pupil by his bedside; one with a peachy tan on her skin, dirty-blonde pigtails, and a name he didn't care to remember right now.

One thought, however, was as clear as glass. 

 

"...Did you pick my lock?" 

"No, it was _unlocked._ You should be lucky your friend didn't leave you on the streets." His careful little menace tried so hard not to laugh. 

"He's not my friend." Nevertheless, he buried himself in the pillow; "Why are you here anyway?"

"I just wanted to know if you were alright...Want me to get you some water?" 

"I can handle it myself...Stupid bar, making me feel like crap..." Much to his discomfort and general moodiness, Blaine needed to get rid of what was left of his booze cruise.

_No way in hell I'm going to work like this...Sleeping till noon seems like a plan right about now._  

 

"Look, I'm only gonna tell you once, so get this screwed into your brain..." He reasonably muttered, trying to find some authoritative grounds; "Since Teach here is stuck in bed today, I want all of you to write me a 2-page essay on the different properties of magic. Spells, voodoo, circles, squares, triangles, pick whatever you want...just make sure they're under the door by tonight."

"Alright, I got that...Should it be written or typed?" 

"Don't care. Just make sure that thing's a mile away from me."

"Okay...I hope you feel better, Master." Finally, and thankfully enough, he was back to his muddy thoughts; letting the morn lazily pass by. 

 

_Man, I hope I didn't do anything stupid..._   


End file.
